Zara sang and laughed with the rest of them, but was only really aware of the man's hand holding hers in a firm grip, of his height when she was so tall herself, of his dark eyes that looked often into hers, and of his mouth with that slightly twisted smile on his lips. Lips that had given her so much pleasure that it made her feel lightheaded, almost as if she were two people; the one who was a part of the laughing, linked throng and the one who was just marking time until he kissed her again.
By the time the song was ended everyone was exhausted, so Tony Howard put a slow, smoochy record on to give them time to recover. Without even thinking about it, Zara turned to the man and lifted her arms so that he could put his around her and hold her close as they began to dance. His lips curved into that lazy smile as he said, 'Hallo again. You haven't told me your name.'
'It's Zara—Zara Layston.'
'Zara. I like that.' He bent to gently kiss her ear-lobe. 'And I'm beginning to like you—very much.'
Zara gave a little gasp and squirmed deliciously, loving the sensations he was arousing in her. She stumbled a little and laughed with him as he held her. 'And you haven't told me your name,' she pointed out.
'I'm Heath Masterson. Our hosts didn't do a very good job of introducing everyone, did they? I shall have to tell Tony off for not introducing me to the loveliest girl in the room.'
For a moment Zara wondered who he meant and then flushed with pleasure as she realised he was talking about her. She gave him a quick, shy glance and saw from the mocking look in his eyes that he was only flirting with her, he didn't really mean it. She relaxed a little and smiled, rather relieved that he wasn't being serious. 'Do you know the Howards well?' she asked him.
'No, not terribly. Tony is a business acquaintance. I've been to a couple of his parties before, and as I'm staying in the neighbourhood over the holiday, he invited me along tonight. His wife I hardly know at all.'
'Oh, really?' Zara gave him an interested look, having already heard from Denise something of their hosts' open-marriage lifestyle.
Heath laughed, guessing her thoughts, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement. 'No, I don't. And anyway, a gentleman doesn't ever kiss and tell.' And, as if to emphasise his words, he sought her lips and lightly kissed her again.
His kiss had the strangest effect on her senses; she would have liked it to go on much, much longer. As it was she stood still, but another couple bumped into them and Heath deftly moved her out of the way and went on dancing.
'How about you?' he asked. 'Are you a friend of Janet's? Or of Tony's?' he added after a deliberate pause.
'Of neither,' Zara admitted with a laugh. 'I don't really know them at all. I've never been here before. They're friends of my sister, from the tennis club. I was at a loose end tonight, so I came along to the party with her.'
'I'm very glad you did,' Heath murmured, and held her closer as they went on dancing.
To Zara it was heady stuff; only ever having been out with Christopher before, she wasn't used to being complimented or treated like a woman instead of a girl. And Heath Masterson was so self-possessed and confident, wearing his arrant masculinity as easily as his beautifully cut dinner-suit. And he made her feel so deliciously feminine and sophisticated herself. It went to her head far more potently than the wine she had been drinking, just as his nearness aroused exciting sensations that she had never felt with Christopher.
But it was so hot in the room. Little beads of perspiration glowed on Zara's forehead and she wished now that she had chosen something cooler than velvet. When the dance ended Heath looked down at her and said firmly, 'We need a drink.' Taking her by the hand, he led her into the dining-room where a hired waiter was dispensing drinks at a bar which had been built into a recess. 'What would you like?'
Zara would have loved a long, cold drink like iced lemonade, but thought that that sounded childish, so she said, 'White wine, please.'
It was a little cooler in here but not much, and the chairs had all been taken by the older people who tended to stick in groups, so there was nowhere they could sit.
Heath emerged from the small crowd round the bar carrying two glasses and a bottle of wine that was so cold it misted over as she looked at it. He gave a glance round and said, 'Let's find somewhere cooler. Let me see, I think I remember…' Taking her arm, he led her out into the hall and into a room opening off it that looked like a small television room, but opening off that were double doors leading into a conservatory furnished with a comfortable sofa and armchairs, where the Howards probably spent a lot of time in the summer. Even here it was still warm, the heating kept on to preserve all the pot plants, but compared to the big party room it was delightfully cool.
'Oh, that's much better!' Zara sighed thankfully.
'Good. And now some wine to quench your thirst.' Heath gave her a glass and sat down on the sofa. 'How about joining me?'
She went willingly enough, kicking off her shoes to tuck her feet under her.
Heath put a casual arm along the back of the settee and her heart skipped a beat, but he made no attempt to touch her. 'Do you live near here?' he asked. 'I suppose you must if your sister belongs to the local tennis club.'
'Yes, in Meeston. And you?'
He shook his head. 'No, I live in London. I work for an advertising firm there. Or at least I do at the moment, I'm in the process of negotiating another job. I usually spend Christmas with an elderly aunt who lives a few miles away, but I stretched my visit until tomorrow so that I could come to the party.' He picked up her hand and began to play with her fingers. 'And I'm beginning to be very glad I did,' he added, his dark eyes smiling down into hers.
Zara's pulses began to race. Unskilled as yet in the art of flirtation, she answered with husky sincerity, 'So am I.'
The flippant riposte he was about to make died in Heath's throat, an arrested expression replacing the mockery in his eyes. Lifting a long finger, he stroked the side of her cheek caressingly and ran it across her lips, the bottom one trembling with the fullness of unawakened sexuality. 'And what do you do?' he asked gently. 'You haven't told me.'
'Oh, I don't do anything much,' Zara prevaricated, not wanting to tell him that she was still at school. 'At the moment I've got a job in a local department store.' Hut she didn't add that it was only until the Christmas holidays ended, a temporary job helping out during the January sales.
Even here they could clearly hear the music from the party, and Heath got to his feet. 'Let's dance,' he suggested, holding out his hand to her.
It felt so right in his arms; Zara could feel the strength of his muscles through his sleeves, smell the faint but insinuative tang of his aftershave, and was more than aware of his hard body whenever it touched hers. Which was often. He seemed to enjoy holding her close as much as she did. He talked to her as they moved slowly around the room, about the record that was being played and music in general, drawing her out to give her own opinions and making her laugh when he told her about a video advertising film he had been involved in that featured a well known group. 'So in the end the hotel refused to take them any more and we had to house them in a caravan at the back of the recording studio,' he finished.
Zara laughed delightedly. 'Oh, I do wish I'd been there to see it!' She looked at him wistfully. 'Your job sounds terribly exciting. Do you get to meet many show-biz stars?'
'A few. Mostly actors and actresses who come to do voice-overs—you know, the background voice that tells you about the product while the ad is going on. We don't get to meet so many pop stars.'
He let her go to refill their glasses with the wine, which wasn't so cool and thirst-quenching now. 'Are you going to make any New Year resolutions?' he asked.
Zara shook her head with a rueful smile. 'I never seem able to keep them. Are you?'
Heath gave a small smile, his eyes warm and flirting again. 'Oh, I think there's one I will definitely have to make.' And he drew her towards him to kiss her neck.
She lifted her head on a small gas
p of pleasure, wondering why it had never felt so good before. 'I like that,' she breathed.
His eyebrows rising slightly, Heath found her lips and kissed her properly, moulding her slim body to his. When Christopher kissed her he used his tongue to force her mouth open, and seemed to feel that the deeper he thrust in his tongue the more passionate was the kiss and the more she would like it. Zara had got used to this gauche and insensitive treatment, so that it came as quite a revelation when Heath kissed her gently, with little kisses that moved over her lips, exploring their softness, teasing and insinuating, rousing her senses to a new level of excitement. For Zara the kiss could have gone on for ever, but all too soon Heath raised his head and stepped away from her, taking a long swallow of his drink. Shaking his head a little, he said, 'Wow! I think we'd better go back to the party before things get too heavy, don't you?'
Zara didn't entirely agree, but she nodded anyway, and Heath put his arm round her waist as he led her back through the house. The music had really hotted up again and Heath immediately took her on to the floor to dance, moving easily to the beat, and clearly enjoying himself as much as she was.
Within five minutes Zara was as hot as ever again, and as the music ended and they waited for someone to change the record, she raised her arms to lift the heavy fall of chestnut hair off her neck. Heath had just lifted his glass to his mouth, but he paused with it in mid-air as he looked at her, his eyes frankly admiring. 'You look sensational when you do that.'
This time his voice had been entirely sincere and Zara's cheeks, already flushed with heat, went an even deeper red. 'Thank you,' she answered, feeling stupidly tongue-tied and embarrassed. 'Would you—would you like to meet my sister?'
Heath's eyes grew mocking again, but he nodded, 'Of course. Which one is she? Let me guess.' He looked round the room and focused on the group where Denise stood. 'That must be her,' he pointed. 'She's the only other redhead in the room.'
They strolled over and Zara saw that Denise's doctor friend had managed to get there. He was standing with a proprietorial arm round her waist, a glass in his other hand, his laughter fighting away the lines of tiredness around his eyes. Denise glanced up as they came over and a rather guilty look came into her eyes, so Zara guessed that she had forgotten all about her promise to their mother to keep an eye on her. Her eyes widened when she saw Heath and she lifted a beckoning hand. 'Hallo. Are you having a good time? You remember Peter, don't you?'
'Yes, of course. Hallo. Happy New Year.'
'Thanks.' Peter leaned forward and gave her a peck on the cheek.
Denise was looking at her expectantly, so Zara, her voice a little shaky with a mixture of shyness and pride, said, 'This is Heath Masterson. We—er—just met.'
'Hallo.' Denise shook hands with Heath and looked him over in open appraisal and with all the confidence of her twenty-four years. She began to talk to him, but Zara's attention was diverted by Peter, who asked her if she had had a good Christmas.
The conversation became general for a while until Tony Howard came in and announced that they were going to play some games. Zara thought that Heath would be bored by the idea, but he joined in willingly enough, always close beside her. In one game she had to sit on his lap, which she found extremely sensuous— and Heath didn't seem to mind in the least either. Another game entailed the girls all having to put on one of the men's jackets and then run outside. Zara was swamped by Heath's jacket and found it almost impossible to run very fast in the velvet dress so that Heath caught her easily. She was bubbling with laughter and from the heady excitement of being chased, so that Heath burst into laughter too, and swung her up in his arms, whirling round with her to make her shriek and cling to him, her arms around his neck. He kissed her then, hard on the mouth, a real kiss of masculine desire and domination.
Zara gazed up at him speechlessly, her eyes wide with surprise at her own awakened sensuality.
The party went on all night, but it quietened down quite a lot towards morning. Those who were left danced desultorily or sat around and talked. Heath sat in an armchair with Zara on his lap, occasionally running his finger idly down the long column of her throat or brushing his cheek against the softness of her hair. At seven they came alive again to eat breakfast, washed down with champagne, in the Howards' farmhouse-style kitchen, and at eight Heath took her home, leaving Denise with Peter.
Zara didn't feel in the least tired; she felt light and bubbly as air, like the bubbles that had jumped out of the champagne glass and tickled her nose. She made Heath laugh as they drove home through the cold morning, the trees made beautiful as the sunlight glinted on the layers of frost that clung to the branches. She was too exhilarated to feel cold, but when they drew up outside her house she pretended to be, so that Heath pulled her close to him to keep her warm.
He kissed her again and rubbed her nose with his, making her laugh. 'Thank you, Zara,' he said softly, 'for making the year start so happily. I hadn't expected to enjoy that party, but you really made it for me.'
'And you for me. It was the best party I've ever been to,' she told him exuberantly.
He grinned and ran his hand through her hair. 'I wish now that I hadn't arranged to go back to London today.' He kissed the tip of her nose. 'Would I be treading on anyone's toes if I asked you to come out with me?'
'Treading…? Oh, I see.' Realising what he meant, Zara gave one quick guilty thought to Christopher before consigning him into the past. 'No, no one special.'
'Good.' Heath kissed her ear. 'So will you come?'
'To—to London?' she asked breathlessly.
'If you could. It only takes about an hour or so on the train. Or I could come down here, if you like?'
'No, I'd like to come to London. There are so many more places to go there.'
'That's true,' he agreed with a grin. 'So when can you come?'
They arranged for Zara to travel up straight from work in two days' time, then kissed again before she went reluctantly indoors, to crawl into bed and lie awake, gazing up at the ceiling, remembering, her heart whirling with excitement and happiness. Nothing like this had ever happened to her before and she was intoxicated by it, by Heath's evident admiration and interest as well as by her own awakened awareness. She felt as if she wanted to be a woman now, not a girl any more. She wanted to be sophisticated and beautiful, poised and self-assured. For Heath, all for Heath. Her thoughts went forward to seeing him again and she fell asleep with a happy smile of anticipation on her lips.
Christopher's mother rang the next day to say that his illness had turned out to be mumps, and as Zara had never had it, her own mother forbade her to go round and see him, which suited Zara very well at the moment. She had been going around with Christopher for so long that not seeing him was like being given a taste of freedom. And she was enjoying the taste, especially as she had met Heath. He was so much more adult, so much more exciting to be with. Only now was she beginning to realise that Christopher had become a habit and that her feelings for him were only of friendship after all. But they had shared so much and he was so keen on her that Zara didn't want to hurt him, so this illness had come just at the right time, she could put off telling him until he was better.
Heath took her out for a meal in an Italian restaurant, and on to the theatre; the table booked in advance, good seats in the stalls and drinks waiting for them in the bar at the interval. Zara enjoyed the play, but was unable to give it her whole attention because Heath held her hand. That, and because she kept stealing glances at him to make sure that she was really here and wasn't dreaming. After the theatre he took her to the station to catch her train and arranged to see her again at the weekend before kissing her goodbye very satisfactorily.
This time he drove down to stay with his aunt again so that they were able to spend most of the time together, only the icy weather a bar to their enjoyment. It was even too cold to sit in the car and kiss goodnight for more than ten minutes. But on the Sunday afternoon Heath's aunt went out to visi
t a friend and so they were able to go back to her flat and sit on the floor in front of the fire, toasting crumpets which they layered with butter for their tea. Afterwards Heath sat on the settee and pulled her down on to his lap.
Zara went very willingly, her arms going round his neck as he kissed her avidly, not releasing her mouth until her heart was beating crazily and her body was on fire with sensations that threatened to drown her. She stared at him, her chest heaving, and said, 'Oh!' on a long note of discovery.
His eyes darkening, Heath held her for a long moment, then bore her back against the arm of the settee to kiss her again with the expertise that can only come from experience, sending Zara's senses reeling as she returned his embrace, wanting to give as well as to take. His hands ran over her, making her breath catch in her throat, but he made no attempt to do more, although his kisses grew more passionate.
At length he sat up abruptly and held her away from him, his breathing unsteady. 'You minx,' he said huskily. 'Do you know what you're doing to me?'
As she was sitting on his lap, Zara had quite a good idea. She gave a breathless, uncertain laugh and sat up, lifting her hair away from her hot skin at her neck.
'Mm, you look beautiful when you do that. Here, let me.'
Heath replaced her hands with his, letting her hair run through his fingers. 'Lord, I wish…' He broke off and shook his head. 'It doesn't matter.'
He took her home shortly afterwards and then drove back to London, but they went out together twice during the following week and again at the weekend. The weather was a bit milder now, although it had snowed during the week and the snow still lay on the ground, crisp and white in the sunlight. They put on lots of clothes and went for a walk in a neighbouring park, leaving trails of footsteps in the snow behind them.
Passionate Revenge Page 2